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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959182">Hope Is The Thing With Feathers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis'>aleksrothis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Hockey RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, M/M, Possessive Behavior, This Was Supposed To Be Crack Fic But It Grew Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:09:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959182</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ilya doesn’t know why there is a bird in the room nor why everyone else seems to be studiously ignoring it. </p>
<p>“Why is there a bird in here?” he asks in Russian.</p>
<p>“He‘s Nicke,” Ovi explains. Except, that’s not an explanation. “He likes you.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nicklas Backstrom/Ilya Samsonov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Pucking Rare - A Hockey Rarepair Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hope Is The Thing With Feathers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PuckingRare2020">PuckingRare2020</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the prompt:<br/><i>Any/Any | Swan Princess Swedes</i><br/>Swans are pretty, and also very fuck-off birds — territorial my-way-or-the-highway murderbirds — which sounds like a Swedish attitude, tbh. Henke (Lundqvist), Nicke, Elias (Pettersson), or even Gabe.</p>
<p>Thanks to Edi for beta reading! Any remaining mistakes are my own.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ilya comes into the locker room late and there is a <i>лебедь</i>—he doesn’t know the name in English—sitting in the middle of the room. He has never been so close to one and it is bigger than he thought it would be, feathers all fluffed out and wings held slightly out so they curve over its back.</p>
<p>Ilya doesn’t know why there is a bird in the room nor why everyone else seems to be studiously ignoring it. “<i>Красивая птица</i>,” he says, stepping closer, holding out a hand. And it is a pretty bird, with its gleaming white feathers and yellow and black bill. Dima looks up just before Ilya’s fingers make contact with its soft-looking feathers and says, “<i>осторожно</i>! Watch out!” </p>
<p>The bird was leaning its long neck towards him but now it hisses angrily, its neck darting out like a snake as it spreads its wings wide, flapping them at Carly, who’s stepped in between them, forcing him a few paces back. Meanwhile, Kuzya pulls Ilya away from the bird, back into his stall. Ilya feels as though he has been saved from imminent danger.</p>
<p>In fairy tales, <i>лебеды</i> are always beautiful maidens. He hadn’t realised they were so vicious in real life.</p>
<p>“Why is there a bird in here?” he asks in Russian.</p>
<p>“He‘s Nicke,” Ovi explains. Except, that’s not an explanation. “He likes you.”</p>
<p>“It— he just tried to attack me,” Ilya protests. Besides, there’s no way the <i>лебедь</i> is Backstrom, Ovi is just messing with him. He looks around the room trying to work out who else is in on the prank. Neither Dima nor Kuzya seem to be paying attention to Ovi, who’s continuing with the pretence.</p>
<p>“Didn’t bite though,” Ovi says. “Not even a little peck. Very good sign.”</p>
<p>“Seriously? You couldn’t think of a better story.” Ilya can see it’s very funny, prank the rookie, but he’d played three years in the KHL, he doesn’t need the hazing experience here as well.</p>
<p>“No story,” Ovi says, putting on an innocent expression. “Would I lie to you?”</p>
<p>Ilya still isn’t sure if he can believe Ovi but he plays along. If it is a prank, whoever’s behind it will reveal it soon enough. If not... “Is it a curse?” he asks. “Like in <i>Лебеди́ное о́зеро</i>?” Everyone knows Swan Lake; it is a classic for a reason.</p>
<p>Ovi just laughs and shakes his head. “No curse. Just Nicke.”</p>
<p>Coach enters the room and the majestic—terrifying—bird does indeed turn back into Nick Backstrom. Ilya shrugs. It’s weird but so are a lot of things about the NHL, and North America in general, and who’s he to judge how their alternate captain chooses to de-stress. Holts gives him an encouraging smile and Ilya settles back into his stall.</p>
<p>During practice, he keeps watching Backstrom, looking for signs he’d missed that he’s secretly a swan, or shapeshifter, whatever he is, or indeed, that he particularly favored Ilya. He certainly doesn’t shoot any less hard at Ilya than at Holts, nor take an easier shot. </p>
<p>Instead, all Ilya notices is the way Backstrom’s face turns pink with exertion and his pale hair sticks to his temples. Backstrom does look up at one point and catches Ilya watching him. His lip curls up in that half-smile and Ilya can feel his face turn red behind his mask.</p>
<p>Nobody says anything after, until Ilya’s half-certain he must have imagined it, except for the long white feather he finds in his bag when he gets home. He doesn’t know how it got there but he can’t help running his fingers over it and imagining what it would have felt like to touch the swan.</p>
<p>At first he’d thought to keep out of Backstrom’s way—he certainly wasn’t taking Ovi’s word for it that he ‘liked him’, if Backstrom even remembered everything that happened when he was a bird—and look, Ilya didn’t know how that worked and he definitely wasn’t going to ask, but it was foolish of him to think he could get away with avoiding his alternate captain.</p>
<p>He’d tried to forget about the swan incident, just one of the many ways the NHL is weirder than the KHL had been. Except, technically, Backstrom had played in the KHL too, with Ovi during the lockout, so maybe this sort of thing went on all the time there too and he’d just missed it. Anyway, whatever Ovi had said, it didn’t mean anything and if he’d watched a bunch of YouTube videos for swan facts that was no one’s business but his.</p>
<p>Nothing had changed and everything had. The first time Backstrom had sat down next to him on the bus, after the incident, Ilya had frozen. But by the time he finds Backstrom already sat in the window seat at his normal place, it has become so normal Ilya just slips into the seat beside him. Except Backstrom flinches, as though he hadn’t been paying any attention and Ilya looks closer. </p>
<p>Now he thinks about it, he hadn’t seen Backstrom since the game ended, didn’t remember him being there in the locker room afterwards as they celebrated and he hadn’t done any press. He looks pale, a little clammy, and Ilya’s stomach twists in concern. Is something wrong? He tries to remember if he’d seen him take a bad hit during the game but nothing comes to mind.</p>
<p>“Just a migraine,” Backstrom says, his expression pinched. “I’ll sleep on the plane when the meds kick in.”</p>
<p>Holts gives them a thumbs up as he passes on the way to his own seat. Ilya isn’t sure if Holts is just being supportive or if he was supposed to understand why Backstrom had chosen him to sit next to him now. Unless he had just picked a random seat and it happened to be Ilya's.</p>
<p>Ilya realises he’s staring. Backstrom’s blond hair curls gently over his collar and Ilya wants to run his fingers through it. He remembers his Mama stroking his hair when he was little when he had a headache and wonders if it would help. He curls his fingers up into his palms to resist.</p>
<p>When he boards, almost last, Ovi looks surprised to see Backstrom there. He pats Ilya’s shoulder as he passes. “Take good care of him, okay?”</p>
<p>On the plane, Ilya gets food straight away—he’s always hungry in the NHL—and when he gets back to his seat, the swan is curled up under its own wing.  He wishes he knew what he was supposed to do but Ovi is the only one who will meet his gaze and he just gives him a thumbs up. </p>
<p>Ilya sits back down, wondering if maybe he could give into the urge to stroke those soft-looking feathers the way he hadn’t dared touch Backstrom while he was human-shaped. Cautiously, as though Backstrom might snap at him at any moment with his sharp-edged bill, Ilya reaches out his hand until the tips of his fingers are not quite touching and he can feel the heat of the swan’s body.</p>
<p>He realises he’s holding his breath as he watches the wings rise and fall with Backstrom’s own breaths, up so the vanes of the feathers scratch against his fingers and down again out of reach. Slowly, so slowly, he lets his hand drop until it is resting on the swan’s back.</p>
<p>Backstrom twitches, one eyelid opening to assess him, and Ilya freezes, waiting with his heart beating in his throat until the eye closes again and Backstrom settles, his head shifting so it is closer to Ilya’s fingers.</p>
<p>Ilya doesn’t dare sleep the whole flight, just sits there with his hand as still as he can hold it. It’s easy to find the meditative state he uses to prepare for games and his world shrinks to just his steady breathing and the warm body beneath his fingers.</p>
<p>He knows they must be getting close to DC when the others start to pack up their card games and finish up their drinks. He doesn’t think Backstrom could wear a seatbelt like this but maybe he doesn’t need it? </p>
<p>As soon as the ping sounds for the seatbelt light coming on, Backstrom flexes his wings, pushing Ilya’s hand away and he shifts back so Ilya needn’t have worried. Backstrom doesn’t say anything and Ilya bites his lip against all the questions he wants to ask.</p>
<p>The next day everything is back to normal again and nobody mentions it. Ilya gets distracted at practice watching Backstrom. It suits him, Ilya thinks, the bird. Beautiful-deceptively delicate at a distance-but fierce and dangerous if crossed.</p>
<p>Ilya wonders if he’ll ever get answers, since he can’t exactly ask his questions in the locker room anyway. Backstrom speaks Russian, or at least understands enough, because he smirks when they’re chirping Ovi and frowns if they say anything too rude.</p>
<p>A few weeks later, they head to New York to play the Islanders and, when Sasha Georgiev texts him with the offer, Ilya doesn’t think anything of agreeing to meet Lundqvist while they’re there. Holtby is a great mentor but Lundqvist is a legend. Sasha and Shestyorkin are so lucky to get to play with him, to learn from him. Sure, being on a team with Ovi is special, but as the goalie it just means getting lit up in practice.</p>
<p>Meeting at a restaurant or their hotel bar would probably draw too much attention, so the day before their game he finds himself catching an Uber downtown to Lundqvist’s apartment. He’s not entirely stupid, he tells Kuzya where he’s going but makes him promise not to tell anyone unless it’s an emergency.</p>
<p>Lundqvist-“Call me Henrik”-turns out to be a charming host, the food is good and the conversation flows relatively smoothly with Sasha’s assistance. It is good to be surrounded by other goalies and if Henrik objects to being outnumbered by Russians, it doesn’t show.</p>
<p>So it comes as a surprise when there’s a sudden sharp knocking on the door and then Backstrom enters without waiting for a response. Henrik rises slowly to his feet and Backstrom speaks to him in quick, angry-sounding Swedish.</p>
<p>Suddenly the air feels charged, making his skin crawl, then there are two swans where the two Swedes had been standing. Suddenly Ilya can see why swans are so feared when he is faced with two of them posturing at each other.</p>
<p>Ilya doesn’t quite understand what’s going on but it feels as though it’s his responsibility to resolve the situation. “Backy," he tries first then, when that gets no response, he says, "Nicke,” trying to stay calm and emulate Ovi’s pronunciation.</p>
<p>“Ah, Swedes,” Sasha says affectionately. He hasn’t moved and Shestyorkin looks equally fond. “So territorial.”</p>
<p>The two swans are hissing at each other, wings spread wide but Ilya can’t bring himself to just stand and watch.</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t we do something?” Ilya asks. It doesn’t feel as rude speaking Russian when the two Swedes are currently birds.</p>
<p>Sasha raises an eyebrow. “Do you really want to get between them?”</p>
<p>He has a point. They’re closing in on each other and Ilya has seen videos of swans fighting, so he knows how dangerous they can be. “Hold on, what do you mean ‘territorial’?”</p>
<p>Sasha’s look of superiority is starting to get tiresome. “Did you not realise what was going on here?”</p>
<p>Ilya’s confusion must be clear because Sasha starts to laugh, almost doubled over with it. It distracts the two swans from their posturing but unhelpfully, it seems to make them decide they need to separate their teammates from their rivals.</p>
<p>They circle each other. The swan Ilya thinks is Lundqvist has a completely black bill, whereas Backy’s has some yellow on it. Lundqvist has a wider wingspan, and though Backy is physically smaller, he seems to be more agile.</p>
<p>Ilya is forced to step back until he finds himself in the hallway, while Lundqvist has herded his rookie goalies over to the far side of the room, with the couch between them and Backstrom.</p>
<p>Sasha has mostly stopped laughing but every time they meet each other’s gaze, Ilya can see it threatening to break through again. “I think we’re going now,” Ilya tells them, not that he has a choice.</p>
<p>“Good luck,” Shesty says, with his own grin.</p>
<p>“You too,” Ilya tells them, but he doesn’t think they’re the ones who need it. They both seem to understand exactly what’s going on, unlike Ilya who’s still completely lost.</p>
<p>Backstrom turns back into a person as soon as they’re out of the apartment. He squints at Ilya, who feels the weight of having disappointed him but the pinched look on his face doesn’t encourage Ilya to ask any questions. </p>
<p>They’re both silent throughout the cab ride back to their hotel and Ilya thinks that maybe they’re not going to talk about this but then Backstrom herds him into his hotel room.</p>
<p>Backstrom backs him into the closed door and then their lips meet in a demanding kiss. Ilya gasps when he finally pulls away, fingers going to his tingling lips. “That not what I expect,” he says, stumbling over the English in his confusion.</p>
<p>Backstrom frowns. “But I displayed for you.”</p>
<p>Ilya isn’t even sure what that’s supposed to mean. “Not all of us are bird experts.”</p>
<p>The frown deepens. “You really didn’t know?”</p>
<p>“No!” Ilya snaps, then regrets it as Backstrom’s face falls. “Please, I don’t understand.”</p>
<p>Backstrom reaches out, then pulls back sharply. “I've upset you.” </p>
<p>Ilya catches his hand before he can step further away. He’d enjoyed the kiss, as unexpected as it had been. “No, only confused. You might have to explain from the start.”</p>
<p>Backstrom flushes but doesn’t pull away again. “What don’t you know?”</p>
<p>“Any of it.” Ilya lets go to rake his hands through his hair. He isn’t sure where to begin, what he has the English to ask or thinks Backstrom’s Russian is up to answering. “Explain swan thing?” he tries. “Is not a curse?”</p>
<p>“Definitely not a curse.” Backstrom shrugs, but he seems more frustrated than unconcerned, pacing as he talks. “It’s just something that happens when you grow up playing hockey in Sweden.”</p>
<p>Ilya doesn’t understand exactly what he says but he gets the idea. “So is all Swedes then?”</p>
<p>“Most, anyway. Don’t all Russian players have something special?” Backstrom asks.</p>
<p>It’s Ilya’s turn to shrug. If there’s any sort of Russian magic then no one has mentioned it to him. “Not unless gossip is superpower.”</p>
<p>Backstrom laughs. “I could believe that.” Then his expression turns serious again. “So you didn’t realise I liked you?”</p>
<p>“Ovi said. But I thought it was a joke,” Ilya admits. How could he have believed that someone as impressive as Backstrom would be interested in him? </p>
<p>“Never a joke,” Backstrom says, and the tenderness of his expression makes Ilya look away, overwhelmed.</p>
<p>Backstrom’s hand touches his cheek, drawing his attention back. “You called me ‘Nicke’ earlier.”</p>
<p>“Ovi does,” Ilya says, suddenly realising it might be too personal a nickname for him to use. Maybe he will let Ilya call him Kolya instead. “Sorry, I can—”</p>
<p>“Say it again.” Backstrom—no—Nicke is looking at him with these intense eyes which seem to see straight through him in either form.</p>
<p>“Nicke,” Ilya says and Nicke folds him back into his arms and then they’re kissing again.</p>
<p>Later, when they’re comfortably situated on the sofa, Nicke’s arms around him and Ilya’s head on his broad chest, Nicke asks, “So what were you thinking?”</p>
<p>Ilya frowns, so much has happened he doesn’t know what he’s referring to. “When?” </p>
<p>“Today, going to see <i>him</i>.” The tone of his voice makes it clear exactly what Nicke thinks about Lundqvist.</p>
<p>Ilya feels as though he needed to defend Lundqvist, or maybe himself. “He’s great goalie. And other Russians there too.”</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t you like Russian goalies— Vasilievsky, Varlamov even.”</p>
<p>“Going to have to play Varlamov tomorrow,” Ilya points out.</p>
<p>“But Lundqvist? Did it have to be a Swede?” Nicke wrinkles his nose and purses his lips as though even saying the name leaves a bad taste.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Ilya says. “I didn’t know.” He still doesn’t entirely understand but he thinks he’s starting to.</p>
<p>“No," Nicke sighs. "It’s not <i>your</i> fault. I thought— I should have explained it better.”</p>
<p>Ilya agrees Nicke probably should have done, but he thinks Lundqvist had probably known how Nicke would react too. He certainly hadn’t seemed surprised to see him there. “So, no Swedes.” That’s fine— none of the other Swedish goaltenders he can think of have Russian starters, or back-ups. Then Ilya thinks of something else. “How you find me anyway?”</p>
<p>“Mika told me— Zibanejad, that is,” Nicke says. “Not that he meant to.”</p>
<p>“You bullied him,” Ilya says, amused.</p>
<p>“You’re mine,” Nicke snarls, arms tightening around him.</p>
<p>Ilya can think of worse things to be. Still, that leads him to another question, probably the biggest one. “Why me?” He can’t think of anything special about him, apart from his hockey.</p>
<p>Nicke doesn’t answer immediately but when Ilya squirms around to see his face, he only looks thoughtful. ”You’re calm. Steady,” he says after a moment. </p>
<p>“Goalie,” Ilya points out. Even so, Ilya thinks of Nicke coming to sit next to him when he had his migraine and is glad he can be there for him.</p>
<p>Nicke shakes his head. “I’ve met plenty of goalies with a temper. I like being around you.” He hesitates, then adds, “And of course you’re hot.”</p>
<p>Ilya flushes. His cheeks certainly feel hot right now. He doesn’t think he’s particularly appealing, not compared to a lot of guys in the league. Not even compared to Nicke but maybe he’s biased there.</p>
<p>“Any more questions?” Nicke sounds amused, no doubt happy at the effect he’s having on Ilya.</p>
<p>He does have one last question, “Have problem with all Swedes?”</p>
<p>Nicke snorts. “What other Swedes do you know?”</p>
<p>“Hags?” It would be awkward if he had to avoid the other forward but Ilya would do his best.</p>
<p>“Team is okay,” Nicke concedes. “Maybe ex-teammates too. I’ll have to introduce you to Andre when we play the Avs.”</p>
<p>“So, what next?” Ilya asks. It seems unbelievable that he’s even here, both in terms of playing in the NHL, and also sitting here on a sofa with one of the best centers in the league, who happens to be a shapeshifting swan.</p>
<p>It’s Nicke turn to go pink. “I hope— When swans choose a mate, it’s serious. I’d like us to be, if you’ll let me?”</p>
<p>Ilya absolutely wasn’t going to turn down Nick Backstrom, even if he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain having a boyfriend that sometimes turned into a swan to his family. So long as he didn’t do it on the ice. Of course, there was only one possible answer. “Yes.”</p>
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